


Keep You Warm

by imthederpyfox



Series: Sanders sides [22]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anorexia, Arguing, Blood, But mostly angst, Cold, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Fluff sometimes, Help, Illness, M/M, Man of the night AU, Maybe more - Freeform, Multi, Nightmares, No Explicit Sexual Content, Other, Rape, Starvation, Swearing, Violence, cuz why not, homeless!virgil, just references to, self deprication, self hate, the sides are good people, travelling, trucker AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthederpyfox/pseuds/imthederpyfox
Summary: Virgil has to question how he ended up in a lot of situations in his life, but he supposes this one takes the cake.Cold, wet, down to his last few cigarettes and his stomach hurting from hunger, he's desperate, he has been for weeks. He keeps telling himself if he can push through then he can get himself out of this situation, right?Things sometimes go wrong, but when things seem most dark and most bleak, can a stranger in a truck help him fix his broken life?
Relationships: Possible Logince, TBD - Relationship, idk yet - Relationship, ill let you guys help me decide, possible all ships, possible moxiety - Relationship
Series: Sanders sides [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/874935
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	1. You're Cold and Shaking

**Author's Note:**

> I NEED YOU GUYS TO TELL ME WHICH CHARACTER YOU WANT THE LOVE INTEREST TO BE! 
> 
> I've had this idea for a while and I finally decided, fuck it, I should probably write it.
> 
> There are some offensive slurs in this but not from the main characters, mainly homophobic/sexist/anything else assholes we encounter throughout the story.

Virgil had to wonder how a lot of things had happened in his life.  
He tried not to think of the past, he couldn't change it and if he focused on it he'd end up in a spiral of self deprecation and 'coping' methods that left much more to be desired.   
But, sat on a bench, the neon lights of the dingy hotel behind him casting his shadow across the parking lots tarmac, the rain pouring down on him and soaking him to the bone with one of his last cigarettes in hand and a small bottle of vodka he'd managed to procure in some not so nice ways he didn't exactly want to think about; he couldn't help wondering how things had spiralled this bad. 

He needed money, that was for sure. He had some, he wouldn't lie. But not enough... His clothes were ripped and stained in 'you really don't wanna know' and he knew he'd lost a lot of weight even though he had never really been a big guy. Tall and lanky? Yes, but not big. He often thought of himself as weaselly, gross. But now he was worse, skeletal with very little to lose expect the small smidgen of self respect that he could have sworn should have disappeared LONG ago. 

He often though about whether it was really worth it in the end, whether any of it mattered and whether anyone would miss him in the end. He knew the answer to one of those questions. Most people probably wouldn't notice to be fair, but for some reason there was that little voice at the back of his head that told him not to be stupid, not to fall into old habits and to just continue on, no matter how much pain and turmoil he was in. Somehow he ended up hating that voice. 

Truck lights went by every so often, and he pulled his shoes back out of the rain. He didn't feel up to anything tonight but he knew he had to, and it wouldn't do to be soaked. The jacket he'd managed to get from a local thrift shop a couple miles back had kept him somewhat warm and dry and not looking like a drown rat, so that was something. The lining of the old bomber jacket was mostly flattened from overuse and had a few rips and cigarette holes over it, but it was warmer than nothing and he did enjoy being able to take a break from being soaked.   
He looked up at the lot, letting the smoke fall from his mouth and began fiddling with his lip ring, pushing it around with his tongue. There were a few trucks here tonight, though most had their lights off. It was fairly late, later than he usually started but he was feeling so tired recently. 

His eyes landed on one of the trucks and he swirled his vodka round in his fingers, steadying himself and downing the rest before standing, slowly making his way over to the truck. He twiddled his cigarette in his hands and took a few long drags on his way over, savouring its harsh, smoker taste.   
He made it to the side of the truck and sighed. He took a moment to finish his smoke and threw the end on the floor, stamping it out with his boot. "You need this..." He mumbled to himself, heading over to the door before he could think twice about it. He found it best to try and dissociate and it helped that his last one had given him some alcohol. The vodka was helping to take his mind off of what has happening all things considered. 

He lightly rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited for a response. This was the only truck with it's lights on so it was easy to assume they were still awake.   
"Whadyawan?!" A rough voice came.   
Virgil cleared his throat and gulped, waiting for the door to open. He heard more muttering and some clanging from inside and after a moment the door flung open, he tried not to jump but he couldn't help flinching a little. 

The man that looked at him sceptically was over middle aged for sure, rough stubble covered his jaw and neck and his hair was thin on top. He wore a white wife-beater - well, Virgil assumed it was once white - and cargo shorts. He sent a dirty smile - at least Virgil thought it was a smile - in his direction as he rested against the door frame. "And what do you want, son?" He asked, his voice gruff and harsh in the light sound of the rain.   
"I should be saying that to you." Virgil smirked, trying not to curl up on himself but it was hard in the cold of the night, it was getting toward winter after all.   
The man huffed out a snort of a laugh. "On your way, kid, I'm no homo."   
"I'm not saying you are." Virgil insisted, stepping closer as the man moved to close the door. "But I know how lonely it can get."   
The man's eyes thinned, watching him with curiosity. Virgil knew he already had him hooked. "I'm just fine, boy."   
Virgil looked down to the floor, nodding knowingly. "Twenty minutes." He looked back up, and the man was still watching him. "That's all I ask. I promise you, I can help you out." He let himself smirk slightly and looked up at the man through his long fringe. 

The man paused for a moment, before silently moving back into the truck, the door open behind him inviting Virgil to follow.   
He let out a silent sigh of relief and climbed up into the truck. He looked around, the front only had one seat and the back held just a mattress and a small dresser where empty beer cans had fallen off. Not the cleanest truck he'd been in but he was in no place to judge anybody.   
"Nice place." He smirked, shrugging his jacket off and folding it over his arm in a stance he knew looked innocently seductive. He hated that. 

"It's a shit hole. I don't need no small talk, kid." He grumbled back, stood next to the mattress in the back. Virgil smirked and accepted the offered beer from the man.   
"Thanks." He smiled. "You're very hospitable." He let the man take his jacket and he placed his bag down nearer the door, a trick he'd learnt in case things went wrong.   
The man beckoned him over and Virgil complied. "So how's this work kid? You look young." He asked, two different questions really.   
Virgil chuckled. "Well, we do what you want, I'm good at the oral side of things but I can do the other stuff if need be, you ask, I tell you how much and we get down to business." He answered, cocking his hips out slightly, he saw the man suck his bottom lip into his mouth and look away before quickly looking back. "As for the age thing, I'm legal if that's what you're asking." He moved closer so they were within arms reach of each other but no closer than that, not until they'd settled on a price. 

The man huffed. "Doesn't make much of a difference to me, kid." He turned away, grabbing his wallet while Virgil tried not to hit this guy or throw up. Homophobic and a paedophile. Brilliant... He put the smile back on his face as the man turned back to him. "Here, twenty do it?"   
"Depends what you want, baby." Virgil smiled, trying to stop the feeling of bile in the back of his throat.   
"Just shut up and give me a blowy." The man almost growled at him, yanking down his fly and moving the money to one side, making a point of no payment until he was done. Virgil was used to tricky clients and reminded himself not to argue back, it would make things ten times more difficult. He smirked instead, moving closer. "Whatever you want... Daddy." He purred, letting the man push him to his knees.   
Here we go again...

\------------

"Not bad, kid." The man smirked. "For a faggot."  
Virgil ground his teeth against the slur and the strong salty, disgusting taste in his mouth. "Thanks, not bad yourself." He pushed himself into standing and reached for the money.   
He flinched when a hand gripped around his wrist.   
"We ain't done." The man growled in his ear. And Virgil felt a sharp panic hit his stomach.   
"We did what was agreed, sir." Virgil replied as calm as he could. It wouldn't do to panic right now. He already felt slow from the alcohol he'd had, that beer really hadn't settled right. "Please, let me go..." He mumbled, his neck tingled at the bad feeling that crept up his spine.   
"Oh, I don't think so." The man pushed him against the wall and Virgil gasped in pain as his arm connected with the cool metal, bent at a weird angle. "You're mine, now." He growled at him, biting down onto his neck and pushing himself against him. 

"No! Please!" Virgil begged, trying to push back off of the wall or slide out away from the man as he went for Virgil's shorts. "Please, don't!" He was silently sobbing now, but no tears were falling. "LET ME GO!" He screamed, but got cut off as the man turned him sharply and clamped his hand over his mouth. His mouth was turned into a warning snarl, his eyes dark and glaring, somewhat possessive. Virgil struggled slightly, muffled crying coming from behind the mans hand.   
The man smirked. "Beautiful like that, babe." He grinned, forcing his lips onto Virgil's.   
Virgil tried to resist, and he took a chance when he saw it. The man had stepped slightly back to pull his shorts down and Virgil bit down on his hand, kicking into the guys crotch and running as fast as he could. He left the warm jacket, it was too risky, and ran for the door, going for his bag as the man swore behind him. 

He felt an arm wrap around his waist and hoist him up, cold metal against the side of his jaw as he squirmed against the man.   
"You REALLY fucked up now, kid!" The man yelled at him. "I'm gonna fucking kill you." He whispered into his ear, low and growling.   
He had to escape, he had to get out...  
He pushed against the man, scratching into his arm and pushing with his feet. He somehow managed to shrug the man off and tripped, landing on the floor and quickly turning to face him, scrambling back, his back soon hitting the console at the front of the truck. 

The man clenched his fists, chuckling darkly. "Getting into position for me, kid?" He grinned, before his face set into a dark intensity once again. He lifted the gun and aimed at Virgil. It was now or never... He pushed himself to the side as one gunshot went off, and pushed against the door, scrambling for the latch and falling down onto the cold tarmac with a loud thud. He cried out in pain as he landed on his wrist and quickly scrambled up as he heard the man coming behind him.   
He began running as he got to his feet, the man's hand wrapping around the back of his shirt and ripping a large chunk out of it. He didn't care, he didn't care about the rain thrashing against him, seeming to cut into him as it was now much heavier than it was before, his shoes soaked and squelching as he ran. He just continued running, no matter how much his muscles ached and hurt and screamed at him to stop. No matter how much his arm seared with pain. Another gun shot rang out behind him and he felt the gravel next to his right foot lift up. 

He cursed to himself in fear, his voice almost shrill as he called out for someone, ANYONE to help him. He prayed to a god he had never believed in. He didn't care about dying, he DID care about dying to a maniac that would probably fuck his lifeless body and nobody would know anything because he'd be holed up in the back of a fucking truck.   
He ran for a nearby truck, still screaming as he drew closer. Another gunshot and he yelled out in pain as it skimmed his ribs. He made it to the truck, thumping against the door and calling out for help, crying though no tears came, he shook, terrified and cold. His head felt foggy and he realised the beer he'd had had probably been drugged. He clenched his jaw and tried to keep himself upright as his hitting of the door weakened. 

What seemed like a lifetime later - though was probably only a few seconds - the door opened and someone pulled him inside. There was the sound a tires screeching in the distance and the faint voice of someone trying to reassure him as the door closed. He fell to his knees, shaking and trembling and oh so scared. He'd had bad experiences but nobody had ever pulled a gun up to him with the sole purpose of killing him. He gasped for air, feeling a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a tired voice trying to get him to calm down.   
His anxiety attack did quickly subside, but only because the drugs took over. He needed to stay awake, but he couldn't help it. 

The world went black and he dropped painfully down onto the floor, every part of him hurting and sore and oh so tired.   
He couldn't make himself stay awake no matter what he did, he supposed it was sick irony that the drugs hadn't effected him until now because the scumbag had only lasted five minutes at most. If he'd lasted longer or asked for anything else Virgil would have been trapped, knocked out with a random stranger.   
He realised as he slipped from consciousness that that was what was happening to him right now, a shadowed figured had pulled him into his truck without a word and may well be after the same thing the last dick was... What a joke...

There were times Virgil had to question how he'd ended up in these situations, but right now all that came to him was sleep and darkness.


	2. Waiting For Your to Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman was suggested as the trucker, so here he is!

Roman looked between the passed out man and his dog, not really sure what to do. He walked over and gently turned the boy over, taking in his features.   
The man was a lot skinnier than himself. He wasn't exactly a big man, though he was muscled and liked to try and keep in shape - especially with the line of work he was in; trucking didn't exactly have a good diet to offer and involved a lot of sitting - he was definitely at least twice the weight of this guy. He was wiry, too thin for Roman not to come up with some theories as to why he would be running around in this weather in shorts and a tank top, trying to get away from a man with a gun.   
His hair had one been purple by the looks of it, but had grown out and was curled round the back of his neck, faded to a light pink/black colour. His jawline was thin and almost sunken, but strong and his nose was littered in tiny freckles. There were piercings in his nose, lip and ears and he was extremely pale with deep black sunk under his eyes. 

"Hey, Rolo, let him sleep." Roman warned his puppy as he came sniffing around the new man that had suddenly entered their truck. It was freezing outside, close to winter near Canada wasn't exactly the best place to be sporting the outfit this man was. Roman mused about what could have happened but it seemed somewhat clear. From what he could work out, this man was a prostitute. Except he hated that word, so he decided 'man of the night' was better. He had to admit though, he could see himself liking this mystery man. Despite how sickly he looked, especially with new bruises and cuts appearing on him from the situation he'd been in before, he did have a pretty face. And asleep he looked so much calmer than Roman's first impression of him. 

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. He HAD been trying to get to sleep when the incessant banging happened at the door. He had wished he could ignore it, though he guessed he was glad he hadn't, not with the state of the man in front of him. He decided he should make him more comfortable and softly lifted him up - way too easily... - and chuckled when Rolo tried to jump up to get a better sniff of the new stranger. "No, Rolo, down boy." Roman smiled at the puppy and walked to the bed that was in the back part of the truck behind the seats. He placed him down gently and stood back up, subconsciously stroking his dog behind the ears. Rolo puffed happily as he looked up at his owner. 

"Right, what do I do boy?" Roman asked him. He wasn't entirely sure he could keep the man calm when he woke. He quickly checked his pulse, making sure he was stable. The pulse was weak but there, if he had a guess from back in his days of bouncing outside bars he would say that he'd been drugged. He somehow wished he'd managed to get a hold of that bastard and strangle him for what he had seemed to do to this boy. Roman sighed and ran his hand through his hair, turning and grabbing his shoes and looking down to see he was still in his boxers. "Ah, right, jeans might help." Roman reminded himself, it was raining and cold after all, and if he tried to go shopping like this he'd probably get arrested. "Come on, Rolo." He grabbed his jeans and climbed to the front of the truck behind the wheel and pulled his trousers on. He yanked his jacket on and turned the key.   
he had decided it was probably best to get away from this area. Not too far, in case the man lived around here, though he doubted it, but far enough away from the place a man had been shooting at him. 

Rolo jumped into the passenger seat and curled up, watching Roman as he began driving to a nearby truck stop that actually had a small shop and a McDonald's he could grab some food from.   
"What am I doing, Rolo?" Roman sighed and glanced at his dog as he parked in the almost empty parking lot. He looked to the back and saw that his mysterious passenger was still asleep in the back before looking back out the window at the neon lights of the truck stop and the rain splattering hard against the windows. "Looks cold out there." He mumbled to his puppy.   
Rolo simply tilted his head to one side adorably and Roman chuckled, stroking him as he grabbed his jacket. He pulled it on and pulled the curtains across for the back of the truck, so the lights didn't effect the other man's sleep. If he was drugged it'd be a nasty headache when he wakes. 

He climbed out of the truck and yanked his hood up quickly, turning and going to close the door. Rolo stood there, lead in his mouth ready for a walk.   
"No, boy, it's too cold out here tonight. Tomorrow we can, I promise." He stroked the dog on his cheek. "Look after him, don't wake him up." He warned the dog, smiling before closing the door.   
He headed toward the shop, wrapping his jacket around himself more, huddling down as he felt a shiver in the rain. He cant imagine how cold the new man was, but he was frozen when Roman picked him up, good thing he'd tucked him under the heated blanket in his truck. God what on earth was he doing...

He blinked at the bright lights of the inside of the shop and pulled his hood down, looking down the isles.   
He decided to grab some medical supplies, some antibacterial stuff for the man's cuts, some bandages, some plasters and some pain killers. He also grabbed a couple big bottles of water since he was almost out anyway, some smacks - peanuts, crisps, brownies, pot noodles, sandwiches, coffee, tea, cookies, chewing gum, pringles, some dog treats (for Rolo), chocolate, sweets... yeah he didn't exactly have a decent diet he would admit - he also grabbed a big bottle of whiskey, some smaller bottles of vodka and some cigarettes. He didn't know if the man smoked since he didn't really have anything on him, but if he did it'd help when he woke up. He couldn't imagine how stressed this man was and if smoking helped he would only partially judge him. 

He thanked the man behind the counter for the items and put them into a few bags, lifting his hood up before he picked them up since he wouldn't be able to when he went back outside, and headed back to the truck.   
He placed everything down, putting what needed refrigerating in the mini fridge and opening the whiskey, taking a couple swigs and letting out a small 'gah' sound at the burn at the back of his throat. He didn't really drink that much but hair of the dog might help his guest, he realised he wasn't a massive fan of whiskey, but it wasn't the worst alcohol he'd tried. He mainly enjoyed wine and beer. He poured a little whiskey into a hip flask his friend had given him and placed it under the counted before putting the rest of the bottle in the fridge. He had realised despite not enjoying alcohol that much, it did keep him warm. He didn't drink enough of it that he would be hungover in the morning and he never drank while on the road so it was fine.

"What've I gotten myself into, Rolo?" He sighed, looking to his dog who was almost asleep on the passenger seat. He sighed and looked at the curtain. He didn't want to invade the man's privacy so he just opened it a little so he could keep an eye on him in the mirror, but other than that he settled down in the drivers seat and pulled out his phone to kill the time.

\------------

Virgil quickly tried to push himself up, his arm quickly protesting and he cried out in pain, falling back into sitting, quickly looking around.  
"Hey, hey! You're ok!" A strangers voice came and someone was knelt next to him. He realised he was on a bed, in a small room and some parts of the night before came flooding back to him. His breathing sped up and he stared at the stranger, thinking about running for it. "It's ok, I'm not gonna hurt you..." The man spoke in a rough, but somewhat kind tone. He offered a tiny smile.   
"How did I get here...?" Virgil mumbled, his voice hoarse and croaky. "Who are you?"  
"My name's Roman Prince." Roman explained. "I'm a truck driver, you were in trouble last night..." He didn't really know what else to say. "Sorry if I scared you when you woke up, you were thrashing about and stuff so I thought I'd check if you were ok."

Virgil watched him sceptically, seeming to be ready in case Roman attacked him. The trucker could tell the man's fight or flight reflexes were through the roof and he didn't want to startle him any further.   
"What's your name?" Roman asked.   
Virgil watched him and hesitantly sat up more. "V..." He mumbled.   
"Just V?"   
"Does it matter?" He asked, harsher than he meant to. 

He flinched as something moved past the curtain but he relaxed a little when he saw it was just a puppy. Rolo had come to see what all the noise was and jumped onto the bed with the scared boy, sitting there happily panting.   
"Ah, sorry if you don't like dogs. This is Rolo." Roman introduced the happy pupper.   
Virgil didn't move to stroke the dog but didn't make a move to stand up either. Roman sighed slightly. "I know this is awkward." He mumbled. "Do you... wanna explain what happened last night or?"  
Virgil flinched slightly. 

Roman wasn't sure what to do really, as a trucker he wasn't exactly used to talking to people except the usual truckers he saw. He'd learnt to be gruff and tough while being a doorman and all of his jobs hadn't involved being close and chummy with people. He sat on the floor, showing Virgil he wasn't a threat and giving him time to answer.   
Virgil shuffled about a little and flinched when he put too much pressure on his arm. "He tried to kill me..." He mumbled quietly.   
"Who was he?" Roman asked softly.   
"I don't know, just a random..." Virgil shrugged slightly. Something seemed to occur to him and he quickly jumped up, wincing when he stood too quickly, but started looking around frantically.   
"What's wrong?" Roman asked, jumping up. He hadn't realised V would be this tall, he dwarfed Roman. But even so, Virgil flinched slightly when Roman stood and took a step toward him. True, Roman was more muscled, like a LOT, but Virgil looked fast and was lanky so he had the height advantage. Roman held his hands up in surrender, showing V he wasn't a threat. 

"My bag! Where is it?!" Virgil asked, freaking out.   
"I-I didn't see a bag, kid." Roman answered.   
"Don't call me that." Virgil told him, stopping looking around and pointing a finger at him, but winced and held his arm in his hand with a look of pain. "Please..."  
"Sorry..." Roman told him, realising that it probably wasn't the best thing to say even though V did look very young. "I didn't see a bag... I just pulled you in from that man, I don't think you had a bag on you..." He admitted.   
"Great..." Virgil whispered to himself defeated, dropping onto the edge of the bed and putting a shaking hand in his hair, not wanting to risk moving the other arm again. "fuck..."

Roman really didn't understand what he'd gotten himself into, but perched on the bed as well, far enough away that he wouldn't freak the younger man out, but close enough that Virgil knew he was there.   
"Can you... explain everything? I mean, if you don't want to it's fine but... it might help." He asked, watching V.

There was a long, long silence where Virgil stared at the ground, gripping at his hair and trying to knock himself out of his own thoughts.   
"Don't judge me... I need the money." Virgil mumbled. Roman didn't say anything, he decided to just sit and listen while Virgil recounted the events of last night. He didn't go into a lot of detail but Roman felt a knot tie in his stomach hearing what that bastard had done. 

\------------

"And then you helped..." Virgil muttered. "So, yeah, that's it." He stood and paced slowly, wrapping his arms around his skinny frame. "So now I have no bag, no belongings... and all my money's gone. I have to get it all back again..." He was teasing his bottom lip, fiddling with his lip ring and not really paying attention to Roman anymore.   
"Hey, stop worrying for now." Roman spoke up, standing as well. "Sit down, please... I got some medical stuff to help, judging by experience I assumed he'd drugged you."  
Virgil closed himself off a little, his shoulders drawing in as he walked back over to the bed, sitting down softly, right on the edge. He still looked ready to bolt at any second. "Experience...?"  
"Oh, I used to be a bouncer for some clubs down in Florida." Roman explained, realising how weird it sounded that he had experience with drugs. He headed to the cupboard next to the mini fridge, grabbing the medical stuff and one of the bottles of water. 

He came back over. "Ok if I sit?" Roman asked, he wasn't usually curt at all but he didn't want to scare his guest. He simply had to clean him up, give him some money and then send him on his way, he must have lived around here.   
V nodded slightly, though he looked scared.   
"Ok, I think I'm gonna have to clean your wounds first." Roman explained. "It might sting."   
"Um, ok." Virgil turned slightly to face Roman as he dabbed some of the anti-septic stuff on a wipe. He let Roman dab the liquid on his cuts and tried not to hiss at the pain. Though he did wince when Roman touched his arm a bit too hard. 

"Your arm hurting you?" Roman asked, gently guiding his skinny arm closer to himself.   
"It's fine..." Virgil mumbled.   
"It's bruised to hell." Roman told him, checking his joints. "I think you've at least sprained the wrist and elbow..."   
Virgil sighed and looked to the ceiling. "Just what I need... medical bills." He let Roman continue dabbing the wounds. "I'll be fine, it doesn't hurt that much." He lied, and Roman knew it.   
"You really should go to a hospital-"  
"With WHAT money?!" Virgil asked, quickly looking away with a flinch when he realised he'd lost his temper. "Sorry... But it'll be fine. Like I said, it doesn't hurt."

"Sorry, sorry..." Roman told him. "I'm gonna have to clean the cuts on your face now." He told him bluntly. Virgil simply nodded and tried not to make eye contact as Roman dabbed at the cut on his lip and his eyebrow.   
Rolo looked up, sniffing around and coming over to the pair, licking Virgil's hand. He couldn't help but smile slightly, gently lifting his hand up so the puppy could smell him and then he stroked the dog behind the ears, careful not to go above his head, knowing it could set him off if he was scared. Roman watched the other man, seeing the smile come onto his bruised and battered face as he stroked his little puppy. 

Roman came out of his stupor as Virgil glanced to him. He turned back to the medical supplies and grabbed the bandages, holding his hand out. Virgil slowly placed his arm in Roman's hand and let him bandage it up tightly, it hurt, but he knew it would help keep it set in one position.   
Roman then made a makeshift sling out of some more bandages and waited for permission before wrapping it round Virgil's neck and letting him put his arm in it. The taller man looked at the makeshift sling and shrugged slightly, somewhat impressed. "Virgil."  
"I'm sorry?" Roman asked, clearing up the medical supplies.  
"My name, it's Virgil..."   
Roman smiled. "Nice to meet you Virgil." He held out his hand. He was usually so much more hard set than this, not open with people, not friendly. But he couldn't help it with this man. Virgil.   
Virgil carefully stopped stroking Rolo and shook Roman's hand with a tiny smile. 


	3. Warm Clothes

"Where are we?" Virgil asked as he looked out to the window at the front of the truck.   
"About ten minutes from where we were, I didn't know if you lived nearby." Roman shrugged, stepping next to him, he looked up at Virgil. "Anywhere you need me to drop you off?"  
"Wherever's fine..." Virgil mumbled, fiddling with the hem on his shorts.  
Roman watched him cautiously, not wanting to say the wrong thing like usual when he charged into a conversation. He wanted to know what lead to Virgil being where he was last night, why he had been in the pouring rain in nothing but short shorts and a tattered tank top. "If you wanna talk about stuff-"  
"Thank you for your hospitality." Virgil interrupted, heading for the door. 

"What are you gonna do now?" Roman asked.   
"Well, I have to try and save up all that money again... then I guess I'll try and continue with the plan of heading back to Ohio." Virgil shrugged.   
"Ohio?" Roman raised a brow.   
Virgil sighed. "Yes, I was raised in Ohio, yes it was a living hell, yes I was bullied for being gay..." He ran off the usual answers to the questions most people tended to ask him about whenever he said he was from Ohio.   
"That's a long way from here..." Roman muttered, it would be a lot of money.  
"Which is why I should get back to work..." Virgil mumbled. "Um, I don't expect you to pay me for anything, since you've done enough already but were you wanting...?"

Roman felt his expression fall to dread. "NO!" He pretty much shouted and Virgil flinched. "No, no, god I wasn't thinking that at all, really! I didn't mind helping."  
"I was just saying if you wanted paying back-"  
"No, it's fine, really..." Roman sighed. "Look, I know you don't have a lot of money, is there anyone I can phone for you? A relative, or friend from Ohio maybe?"  
"No... nobody." Virgil wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm fine, really. I'll be fine."   
"Virgil-"  
"I should get out of your hair, thanks for everything." Virgil began heading outside. 

"At least let me buy you breakfast!" Roman shouted after him as his long legs made quick work of taking him across the parking lot. Virgil turned to look at him, his arms still folded and already shivering. Despite the rain stopping for now it was still freezing out there.   
He marched back over, standing about ten feet away from the truck. "Why are you so intent on helping me?"   
Roman thought about that. He didn't really know the answer in all honesty, but he knew this boy needed help, and he didn't feel right letting him walk away barely clothed with no money and no family to help him. Roman's friends back home would be disappointed in him if he didn't do anything to help. "Honestly? I don't know, but I think you could use a friendly face right now..." Roman shrugged, knowing it probably wasn't the best explanation ever. 

Virgil seemed to contemplate it. "You've helped me enough already..." He muttered, his teeth beginning to chatter.   
"Come on back in, it's freezing out there." Roman stepped to one side, watching to see what the younger man did. When Virgil spent a little too long looking cautiously at the doorway - and when Rolo seemed to perk up thinking Roman was holding the door open so they could go for a walk - Roman rolled his eyes slightly and huffed. "Look, I'm heading back toward Virginia, that's where my delivery is." He thought about it for a moment and realised that no matter how much he just wanted to get back to work and ignore this had ever happened, looking down at this too skinny, sick looking man with his big blue eyes twinkling even if they looked duller than they should; he couldn't leave him. "I can take you back to Ohio on my way."   
Virgil stared at him, seemingly in shock. "But that's- no, that's too much." He watched Roman with a glint in his eye that showed his lack of trust in other people. "I don't need your pity-"  
"It's not pity!" Roman quickly explained. "Seriously!" 

"What IS it then?" Virgil cocked his hip slightly and watched the other man sceptically.   
Roman froze, he honestly didn't know, why was he getting asked so many hard hitting questions today?!   
"Go on, charity? Pity? Wanting to feel good about yourself?" Virgil took a couple steps forward. "I can't repay you for what you've already done, I'm broke."   
"I know-"  
"Then what do you want from me? I have no phone now that my bag's gone, no money, no cigarettes, no home, no family, no friends! What could I possibly offer you?!"  
"I DON'T KNOW!" Roman shouted. Virgil paused, realising he'd probably said too much. "I don't WANT anything from you..." Roman whispered, looking down to the floor. "I just want to help..."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, where neither man spoke and avoided looking at each other.   
"I don't think you're charity." Roman finally spoke up. "I just think you've been thrown a rough lot in life."  
Virgil watched him as if he were a human lie detector and would be able to tell if Roman was trying to trick him. "Fine... If you're already heading up that way... I suppose I could tag along."  
Roman smiled, actually surprising himself with how happy he was to hear that. "Ok, well, hop back in then, it's cold out there."

Virgil rolled his eyes but there was no malice there, he climbed into the truck again and stood awkwardly as Roman grabbed some stuff. "I'm gonna nip into the McDonald's over there, you want anything in particular or?"  
Virgil didn't really know. "Um, nothing with bacon." He smirked at Roman's inquisitive, accusing eyebrow raise.  
"You don't like bacon?"  
"Bacon is disgusting." Virgil chuckled, loving peoples reactions to him saying that, it never got old. "Nothing with bacon, if that's ok...?"  
Roman nodded. "Sure, weird but sure. One McDonald's with NO BACON, coming up." The smaller man shook his head slightly and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. "Rolo should be fine but if he gets too boisterous just tell him to sit, he seems to like you."  
Virgil nodded and perched on the edge of the bed, stroking Rolo behind the ear as the dog came and sat at his feet.   
Roman left to go get the food.

\------------

"I can't remember the last time I had McDonald's." Roman smiled, his parents had always taken him to the drive-thru when he was a kid and it always made him nostalgic when he ate the fast food.   
They'd set up the food on the floor in the back of the van, sitting either side of it. Roman kept a close eye on Rolo but he'd trained the pupper to not try and steal food.   
"I've had it quite a bit in the last couple months." Virgil answered, picking the pickle out of his big mac. He looked up to see Roman watching him, waiting for more explanation as to why. He gave a small shrug. "'S cheap."  
Roman nodded slightly. "How are you not bigger if you've been surviving on nothing but McDonald's?" He joked, but Virgil's return smile didn't quite meet his eyes.   
"I haven't exactly had the most luxurious life recently, so I get food when I can." Was all he said, picking at his fries. He was starving but he didn't want to be rude in the company of his new... companion?   
Roman watched his reaction. "When was the last time you ate?" He sipped on his diet coke as he watched the other man. 

Virgil paused, he actually had to wrack his brain. He didn't want to lie to someone who was helping him out, but he didn't exactly want to tell him his life story. They wouldn't see each other again after he got back to Ohio anyway. "Few days..." He muttered with a small shrug.   
"A few days?!" Roman asked, scandalised by the thought. "How long is a few days?"  
Another tiny shrug. "Three, four... Doesn't matter, I've never been a big foody anyway."  
Roman shook his head slightly. "Eat up, I'm not having you starving while you're here with me." He half ordered the younger man and Virgil smiled slightly.   
He took that as all the reason he needed to tuck in to the food properly, even if he felt full after a couple of mouthfuls. Roman smiled to himself and continued his own food. 

\------------

Once they were done eating Virgil sighed. "I think I'm gonna pop..." He grumbled, looking somewhat sick. Roman wasn't surprised, the first thing he'd eaten in days was fast food.   
"Don't be silly, you've only had half a big mac, some fries and a chocolate milkshake." He chuckled as he cleared away the rubbish.   
Virgil groaned as if to say 'don't remind me' and Roman found himself laughing at that.   
"Come on, you can sit up front with me." He held his hand out and helped Virgil up, it really wasn't difficult the boy weighed nothing. "Rolo might wanna sit on your lap though, if you don't want him to just pop him on the floor in between us." Roman climbed into the front seat. "Oh, there's some water in the mini fridge, and some snacks if you wanna bring them up here?"  
Virgil nodded and Roman set his attention on making sure the mirrors were right on the truck. 

Virgil climbed into the front not long later, carrying the big bottle of water and a packet of gummy worms, putting them down on the dashboard for later and opening the water. The food had made him feel a lot better - especially the milkshake - than he had when he'd first woken up, but he knew he needed water. He'd also have to figure out where to get some smokes from because lord knows he was too stressed to even think about going cold turkey right now.   
Roman watched him as he drove them downtown through Montana. He knew Virgil was probably feeling like absolute shit after the drugs that ass hole had given him last night, but he was good at pretending he wasn't feeling as bad as he was. "I'm gonna stop off at the big store nearby, if that's cool?" He asked, his eyes going back to the road. 

Virgil lowered the big bottle of water, feeling a little queasy after downing a quarter of it. He knew you were supposed to sip water when you felt ill, but he felt so dehydrated - head splitting with a headache, his face hurt from the bruising and cuts, his hands shook and his mouth was so dry. He had at least adjusted to his left eye being mostly closed though. "Sure." He mumbled, trying not to betray how sick he felt. Roman had spent money on food and water for him and he didn't exactly wanna repay that by throwing it back up again.   
Roman glanced at him, cautiously. "We'll be there in a couple minutes."  
"Cool..." Virgil muttered, he put the water down and just tried to focus on breathing through as he lifted a leg up to his chest and hugged it, closing his eyes.   
The truck driver had remembered seeing his friends the day after they'd been drugged and they had felt better once they'd had some food and drink, though felt worse not long after that. Virgil must have been feeling even worse considering his lack of food and how hard the drugs must have hit him with how little he probably weighed. He hadn't thought about that before. 

\------------

"Have a look around if you like." Roman told him, handing him a couple of notes. "Here." He lent back into the truck and produced the packet of cigarettes he'd purchased the night before.   
Virgil raised a brow. "Did you get those just for me?"  
"Well yeah, I didn't know if you smoked or not but I thought it might help you feel better if you did." Roman explained.   
"Thanks..." Virgil mumbled, putting the smokes in his shorts pocket. 

A woman walked past and gave the two a scandalised look. At first Roman didn't understand, but then realised just how battered and bruised Virgil must have looked, along with them getting out of the same van together and Virgil wearing next to nothing. There might have been a few different scenarios that woman was thinking about, but who cared. Roman hadn't done anything wrong to Virgil. He hoped...  
"I need to take Rolo for a walk, so meet back here in twenty minutes?" Roman asked, trying not to think about the looks they were getting.   
Virgil nodded, sneaking the money Roman had given him back into the older man's pocket. "Sure." He stuffed his hands in his shorts and headed toward the store as Roman grabbed Rolo's lead and began walking the dog round. 

\------------

Roman tied his puppy up outside and promised to be back in a minute. He headed inside and went straight for the clothing section, looking for something that could keep his new company warm. Once he'd found a small selection of clothes - it wasn't a clothing store so none of it was amazing taste or anything, not that he knew much about fashion, his friends usually picked stuff out for him - that he thought Virgil might not hate, since the younger man seemed to know a bit about fashion and while Roman didn't want to judge, he did seem to like both male and female clothing; at least he hoped that and that Virgil didn't just wear that girly stuff for his... 'job', he headed to the cashier.   
He scanned the items and paid the way too cheery for this time in the morning man behind the counted and thanked him as he carried the bags back outside. He untied Rolo - he didn't like leaving his dog tied up anywhere - and quickly headed back to the truck. 

Virgil wasn't there when he arrived so he climbed in and put the bags of clothes on the bed, untying Rolo's lead and giving him a good stroke, smiling as he cooed at his adorable little doggo.   
He climbed into the front seat again and looked at his phone. He put it back down and decided to just listen to the radio until his companion returned.   
Virgil climbed into the truck a couple minutes later, flopping down in the passenger seat and avoiding looking at Roman as if he were embarrassed or anxious.   
"Hey, there's some clothes in the back for ya to try on." Roman told him, realising the reason the other felt embarrassed was probably due to the smell of vomit that he caught. "They should fit, in fact most of them will probably be way too big, they didn't exactly have a good selection..."

"You bought me clothes?" Virgil asked.   
"Well, yeah, let's face it the clothes you're wearing aren't exactly weather appropriate for Montana in late November." Roman chuckled.   
Virgil nodded slightly, seeming more awkward than before. "Thanks..." He stood and moved back into the back of the truck.   
"I'll put the curtain across to give you some privacy!" Roman called behind him. He heard a small 'K' from Virgil and looked out the window, watching the parking lot as Virgil tried on clothes in the back.

\------------

About ten minutes later Virgil reemerged from the back, sporting a black and purple checked hoody with a grey inline hood. It actually really suited him, despite being from a definitely none clothing store. Roman smiled, watching the other man settle back into the passenger seat with his legs crossed. He still sported the short shorts - mostly due to the fact that there had been no trousers other than cargo shorts at the store and Roman had suspected they'd be too big, he'd bought some just in case, but maybe Virgil was comfy in his shorts, at least the hoody would keep him warm - and his combat boots.   
"Wow, suits you." Roman smiled, starting the engine.   
Virgil looked down at the oversized hoody. "Yeah?"  
"Yeah, purple's you're colour I think." Roman chuckled. Virgil smiled a little and went to watching the world go by out the window as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed out onto the motorway.


End file.
